Part time Persuasion
by dot.dot.dot.deranged
Summary: Harry gets a part time job in Hogsmeade with an unexpected twist.
1. The Customer

This was originally a challenge issued by aim:blasphemousmoos3 on the livejournal community domeprofsnape. The challenge was as follows:

" Write a story (chapters, oneshot, whatever) about one of our beloved Hogwarts attendants (Harry, Hermione, Draco, etc) with a summer job (you might have to be creative to fit draco and work into the same sentence). But somehow...they run into our dear Professor Snape! So, you MUST explain why he's there, how they bump into eachother, and please don't make it ridiculous, kay? No "omg hermione's a stripper in hogsmeade and snape does her :O!" unless you're doing it in a crack!fic kind of way."

_1) Severus is seen in his intimates...or his intimates are seen...something with his intimates please. BUT NOT IN A SEX SCENE :O! (oh i must force creativity !)  
2) someone saying "The orange ones taste like bollocks stewed in urine"  
3) Severus saying "It's very lumpy"  
4) A slight mishap concerning clothing _

Of course, I missed the due date because I'm a lazy moose, so here it is, posted in its not-so-entirety, and if you like it I'll continue

"That looks a bit lumpy," Harry said, staring into the photo development chemicals before him. In his mind's eye, he had imagined photo chemicals to look a bit less…alive. The liquid before him bubbled and seethed with fairly animalistic vigour, sometimes spitting right at him. Which was probably why he was currently dressed in strangely Ghostbuster-esque garb, complete with goggles, overalls and spooky backpack thing, the purpose of which he was yet to discover.

When he'd taken the job at the Photo Development Lab in Hogsmeade he hadn't expected it to be this complicated; it was really just something to do temporarily over Christmas while Ron was off at his brothers' shop and Hermione was working as a stripper down the road most nights­. It wasn't even as if he needed the money. However, Harry was beginning to realise he'd got more than he bargained for.

"Yes, it's that sort of texture because the silver oxide's actually cursed," the manager said quickly. Mr Sadler was a quick and quietly spoken man with receding hair whose fingers seemed as long as the wand he continually fiddled with in his left hand. Harry liked him, despite his enigmatic appearance.

"You don't say," said Harry. He was trying to pay attention but found the long scientific vocab the man used reminded him too much of Professor Sprout, and Professor Sprout too much of complete and total boredom to stay interested for long.

"Yes… the mixture can get extremely volatile sometimes…" the man said. Just then, the silvery mixture rose out of the tray it was in to form a gigantic wave. The wave took on features, mainly of the sharp and pointy kind. Harry quickly drew his wand to prepare for the danger heading his way…

"Oh put it away, boy!" the manager, thawpping it down. He took off the backpack he wore and promptly walloped the creature over the head with it. It fell with a quiet splosh back into its previous state. "Now, you need to top it up frequently with the spell "_Devixtopera"_ if it the colour goes too silver, and "_Fistopdevia" _if it goes too orange or unfortunate things like that happen. Doesn't like being cursed, you see," he finished, almost to himself.

Just then, the shop door jingled and Mr Sadler looked towards its source. A young wizard had entered, his hands shaking as he held the film canister out before him. He had the air of someone incredibly guilty and the look on his spotty adolescent face put it across even more. It wasn't even as if the room was at all imposing; it was all fine oak panelling with pictures of smiling, happy people in expensive gold frames.

"Film processing?" Mr Sadler asked, advancing towards the boy.

"Uhm…yes," the boy replied, a little too quickly. It was like he was being interrogated.

"If you could just touch the tip of your wand to this form? There. Thank you. Normal size?"

"Yes."

"Matt or glossy?"

"Yes…um…..matt."

" That'll be ready for collection tomorrow then."

The wizard went as if to run for the door. "Okaythanksbye," he shot back, and the door jingled once more before Mr Sadler could get out his "Merry Christmas!"

Mr Sadler left the canister on the counter and turned to face his protégé. "That would be an amateur porn photographer, Harry. You can nearly always tell, though there are exceptions." He picked up the film and regarded it not without some enjoyment. "I would be very surprised if this didn't have at least some form of genitalia on it."

The door jingled again as another customer entered and Mr Sadler looked very seriously at Harry. "I can trust you to develop the negatives by yourself, can't I, Harry?"

Harry nodded quickly, even though most of what the manager had said had passed in a haze of Spout-induced boredom. The man threw the canister deftly at the boy and turned to his customer.

Harry made his way to the back of the shop, trying not to touch the canister too much. He knew he had to put the film down one of the chutes in the back wall – but which one? He'd gotten the gist of the demonstration, that being moving images the negatives were developed mainly through a process which involved using the actual memories of the photographer and it went down one chute into some sort of abyss and came out the other side….but which chute?

"Bugger," he said, under his breath.

He had a one in three chance of getting the right one, and two had always been a nice sounding number, so he chose that one and deposited the film into the hole. All at once came a terrible roaring, crunching sound. The chute began wobbling and shaking, and smoke started coming out. There was a large bang….and then silence.

He was suddenly aware of Mr Sadler and the customer both staring at him. He then heard Mr Sadler say "Terribly sorry, you just can't get the staff these days, can you?" There was a swift murmur, and he continued "Yes, it is the Boy Who Lived, but, you know, Voldemort addled his brain and I'm afraid he's quite, quite stupid. Terribly sorry. Please excuse me a moment."

Mr Sadler was soon looming over his shoulder. "Potter!" he said with some impatience. "What in blazes have you done to the system? Weren't you listening? Undeveloped negatives go in the first chute and come out the third!" Mr Sadler seemed so seethe for a few moments before saying irritably. "Go over there and pack up the processed film. I'll talk to you about this later."

It was with some guilt that Harry trudged his way round the corner, trying for a quiet _"Reparo!"_ as he passed the kaput chute. The spell fizzled into nothing and he continued his way to the packing table.

Trust him to break something important on his first day. It was really completely bloody typical, really. Nothing ever seemed to just…_work_ for him. Being Harry Potter made life very difficult. He'd probably lose his job, now. Be a laughing stock because it was him out of the entire year who would be sacked first. He folded the cardboard pamplets that held the developed photos viciously, developing a paper cut in the process. Bloody folder. Bloody photo lab. It was then, while internally contemplating whether to stamp his foot and howl in indignation, that he heard a familiar voice drift over from the counter.

"No, Mr Sadler," the silky voice said, all at once managing to be quiet and yet distinguishable from the clacking hum of the machines. "I'd actually like them five by seven this time. And matt."

Harry's hand had frozen mid-fold. It was Professor Snape. He sunk immediately from annoyance and indignance to a strange sort of prepared calmness. He didn't notice he was holding his breath.

"Of course, Mr Snap."

"It's Snape," he said in a tone which automatically added a '_you idiot'_ to the end of the sentence. It was one Harry knew well.

"Terribly sorry, Mr Snape. I should know, really. You've been using us for quite some time."

There was a quiet hmm, also familiar to Harry. He'd never noticed before how effortlessly Snape managed to be patronising. He could even do it with one syllable.

"Well, I shall be expecting them ready for collection tomorrow," he said, and there was a jingle as the shop door shut, leaving Mr Sadler's "Merry Christmas!" floating in empty air.


	2. A Compromising Situation

The next day Harry arrived at work he was a lot more calm. Mr Sadler had eventually relented and told him that it was really no big deal, it was an easy mistake to make and that it was probably his fault for leaving him to do it by himself. As a gesture of goodwill, he even let him have some of his ginger nut biscuits that he kept by the cauldron in the back room and had previously been out of bounds 'on pain of a very untimely death' to Harry. He'd also sent Harry out to the sweet shop to acquire festive candy to offer to customers, and had said with an almost devious twinkle in his eye that Harry could help himself to a few if he felt like it.

The day passed fairly uneventfully this time. Harry managed not to blow anything up and was commended on his use of wand work when controlling the development tray with spells. Mr Sadler began to show him how the till worked and introduced him to the layout of the front of the shop. Harry began to feel as if he was actually learning something worthwhile and actually began to enjoy himself. He liked serving customers and helping them with their orders and it seemed as if everything was going right.

"It's a little sticky," Mr Sadler was saying. "I think the till has a gremlin in it. Just give it a bit of _Alohamora_ if it won't open. And it's very important you get them to infuse this form with magic, otherwise they'll just stay static." The bell rung merrily as the door swung open, and under his breath he continued "Remember Harry, keep a happy face!"

It turned out a forced 'happy face' wasn't required as it was Ron. Harry grinned widely, trying to suppress the feeling of guilt when he realized that he hadn't seen his friend in a while. "Hey!"

"Alright? How's it going? I've got some photos to develop. It's Fred and George's - I think it was from this party they went to. Or something. Anyway. Here you go."

Harry got him to touch his wand to the form and took down the details. He also offered Ron a sweet, which he took with some suspicion – probably his brothers' influence."Thanks for popping in, Ron," he said eventually.

"That's all right. I should be over later – my mum's presents to all of us have all the wrong labels on – I think you've got mine. I'll bring yours over later." His eyes suddenly lit up with inspiration. "Why don't you just take the photos back with you and give them to me when we're back in the Tower?"

Harry went to say yes, then looked over at Mr Sadler. "An excellent idea, providing the customer leaves his payment first."

Harry took Ron's money and deposited it in the somewhat reluctant till, wished him a Merry Christmas, and got on with work.

It was around closing time when the final customer arrived. Mr Sadler was sweeping the back stairs and Harry was in the front of the shop. The bell rung and he looked up, only to be faced with Snape. His face was far from surprised (even imagining his face surprised was difficult) but instead sour looking. Harry, however, was surprised, and tried to create a better barrier than the counter between them. Unfortunately, the only thing to hand was the festive sweet tin, and holding it to his chest, squeaked "Care for a festive chocolate?"

Snape looked at him with something between suspicion and pity. "What are you doing here, Potter."

"I work here, Professor."

There was a slight pause while Snape looked Harry up and down, then he slowly reached out and removed a sweet from the tin. "Do you now."

"Yes, Professor."

"Well might I suggest that you work instead of standing here looking at me gormlessly?"

Harry suddenly hoped that the chocolate was poisoned, and hurried to the back where the finished films were kept. He searched under 'S', eventually finding "Snape, S." somewhere near the back. He went back to his tormentor, who was chewing with some distain. Snape's onyx eyes met his as he approached. "The bin, boy," he demanded. Harry fetched up the wicker basket from the floor, feeling only slight nausea when Snape hacked the sweet he was chewing into the depths of it. "Just to inform you that the orange ones taste like bollocks stewed in urine. It's utterly foul. Unless you want to scare away the customers more than your presence here actually does, I suggest you remove them."

"Sorry, Professor. I had no idea you liked chocolate."

"Don't pretend to be interested, Potter. It's utterly sick-making." He held out his long white fingers for the folder in Harry's hands. Harry passed them over. He felt an intense wish for the potions master to find no fault with them, part because he wanted to prove he was actually good at something for once, and part because he wanted the transaction to be over as quickly as possible. He watched as Snape's deft fingers searched through them. Eventually, he slammed the photos down on the desk before Harry.  
"These aren't my photographs."

Harry was bewieldered. "Yes they are…it says your name on the-"

"Potter," Snape drawled distastefully. "Look at them. Come here and look at them." Harry edged forward and looked down at the images. They were family photographs, grinning children, smiling parents. A birthday party. "Do these look like my photographs? Am I the sort of person to have such idiotic celebrations?"

Harry felt some sort of embarrassment wash over him, but he squashed it firmly and looked up at the Potions Master. "I don't know, Professor, but if you have I certainly wasn't invited."

Snape's glaring eyes burned into his. "Consider this, Potter," he growled, spitting out his name like he'd done moments before to the chocolate. "Were we not in a public place right now I would gladly forcibly remove several parts of your anatomy and…"

"I don't think Voldemort would be too pleased with you if you did that," Harry pointed out.

Snape's eyes went wide and Harry suddenly wondered if he was going to explode. He went to speak, but Mr Sadler's face appeared round the partition. "Everything okay, Harry?"

Snape straightened up. "Mr Potter was just in the middle of insulting my intelligence, Mr Sadler. He was trying to convince me that these photographs are mine when it would be clear to even the most dimwitted numbskull" – here he looked pointedly at Harry – "That they are not."

Mr Sadler's brow knitted. "I'm terribly sorry, Mr Snape, I-"

"You will find them, Mr Sadler. You will have them delivered to my rooms at Hogwarts by the end of the evening. Have I made myself clear?"

"Yes, Mr Snape."

He gave a curt nod and left the shop, the bell twanging after him. Harry felt indignant again, and Mr Sadler's eyes were burning into him. After such a good day, he felt almost disappointed with himself. Mr Sadler carried on sweeping and Harry headed to the back of the shop to find Snape's photographs. He found the folder marked 'Snape,S' in the bag marked 'Meredith, N" after some searching picked up Ron's folder, then went back to the manager. "I found them, Mr Sadler. Shall I take them to him?"

"Certainly, Harry. Have a good evening." As he got to the door, he called out again. "And remember, Harry. The customer is always right."

_Unless he's a greasy haired hook-nosed bastard_, Harry felt like pointing out, but nodded and shut the door behind him.

There was a definite chill in the night air and the snow was falling thick and fast. He hurried his way through Hogsmeade, flicking his way through Ron's photos as he went. They were your usual drunken shots; bums, beer and boobs and the occasional leering face of Fred or George in the foreground while some very strange and possibly disturbing occurrence happened in the background, so he put them back in his rucksack and hurried back to Hogwarts.

Once inside he shrugged off the snow with some annoyance. His glasses had steamed up horribly and he stood, half-blind and bedraggled with wet snow for a few moments while he stood and rubbed the steam off his glasses. He knew Snape wasn't likely to be a patient sort and so made up his mind to make Ron's photo delivery as quickly as possible.

However, hurrying up to Gryffindor Tower, he found Ron wasn't in. He left the photos on his bed instead and backtracked his way down to the Potion's Master's rooms, which he had some vague recollection of being somewhere near the dungeons. This time he didn't see the need to hurry. It was only when he was safely in the smaller corridors that he decided that since he was delivering Snape's photos out of the kindness of his heart, and since Snape had been a snarky bastard to him, that he'd probably best take a look at the photos.

He wasn't sure what he expected to see really. Death Eater rites? Did death Eaters carry cameras around with them? He threw that idea away immediately. Some seedy, yucky thing that would get him sacked forever? He liked that idea best.

What he did see was something entirely different. From the first moment that he unfolded the packaging and saw a slither of alabaster skin on a black background, a heavy feeling settled in his stomach. A feeling that he should not see what he was seeing.

What he did see was a naked Snape

Snape.

Naked.

S-n-a-k-e-d.

The photos clattered with a papery slap to the floor and Harry stared at them. It was a few seconds before he'd gathered up the courage to pick them up again.

The trouble was, they weren't that bad. That is to say, Harry had expected Snape, slimy, unattractive Snape, to have some disgusting physical deformity to match his disgusting insides. But it wasn't all that bad. He had quite a… commendable body really. For a slimy greasy git. And he wasn't all naked. Not in the first ones. They weren't porn in any sense of the word; they were artistically done, well lit, and obviously carried out by a someone who knew what they were doing. And it wasn't until halfway through the set, after the soft black satin boxers that you got to see anything at all anyway. They were actually quite good.

Harry became suddenly aware of the fact the heavy feeling in his stomach had settled into a raging erection.

He cringed inwardly. To be turned on by naked photos of a guy… but naked photos of Snape? Erk.

He shoved them back in the folder and hurried off down the corridor, willing his hard on to go away. However, it proved to be stubborn and still hadn't wilted away by the time Harry had reached his destination.

"Oh god!" he whined quietly, raising his hand to the knocker on the door. There was nothing he could do. It was one of those erections which definitely resulted in a good wank and preferably within the shortest amount of time possible. But he couldn't go away and come back later – he had to get these photos out of his possession before anyone else found them, because then Snape would make his life an utter living hell…

The door swung open before he could knock a second time.

"Yes?" a silky voice said.

"Photos, professor" Harry said, trying to keep his voice level. A white hand came out from the door and took the folder from his hands. Snape shuffled through them quickly before looking up.

"Thank you, Potter," he said quietly, and shut the door.


End file.
